


Obligatory Poisoned Blade Story

by CaptainShade



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Cauterization, Enochian-Speaking Sam Winchester, Head Injury, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV Sam Winchester, Poisoned Blade, Protective Dean Winchester, Samulet, Season/Series 08, Stabbing, Unconsciousness, Whump, kind of, or the absence thereof
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 00:52:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16902999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainShade/pseuds/CaptainShade
Summary: Written for the discord. Shameless Sam whump, but it was actually brewing before I talked about it with the discord. Very light Sastiel. Poisoned blade, concussion, little bit of angst, little bit of Enochian, witches.





	Obligatory Poisoned Blade Story

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saintsurvivor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintsurvivor/gifts).



> Enochian translation at the end. For saintsurvivor, Lisa, Cereal, Jasper, Judah, and Bridie, and everyone else in the discord. Credit for Enochian goes to SLWalker for their post "Enochian: A Resource"

It was days like this--every day, really, but especially  _ these _ days--that he really cursed the Winchester luck. 

The hunt started out pretty average--strange deaths, evidence of witchcraft. They thought it was just a couple; turned out there was a whole coven of witches there. Cas wasn’t with them this time, he wanted to take care of some business somewhere else, which was the first red flag. The other was the two empty places in the spell circle. 

Sam had just enough time to notice the empty places in the circle before a dull thud and pain rattled his skull and he slumped to the floor unconscious. 

The next thing he sort-of noticed was cold floor against his cheek and rough rope on his wrists. There was a voice yelling angrily, somewhat familiar. The lights blinded him as he tried to open his eyes, but he squinted against the brightness and blurriness.  _ Must have gotten a concussion from that. _

The voice intensified and he pressed his forehead harder into the cold floor, trying to escape the building headache. There was an unyielding pressure on his arms from behind.  _ What? _ A noise that sounded vaguely like “Up!” prompted him to struggle to get his legs underneath him. Why couldn’t he keep his balance? Head injuries are stupid. Fingers dug into his biceps, hauling him up faster than he was prepared for. He couldn’t hear anything past the ringing in his ears as he tried to get his balance back. 

There was more yelling, the grip on his arms tightened, and pain exploded through his leg. His right knee buckled, and he would have fallen if the hands on his arms hadn’t tightened to bruising levels. He could just barely hear talking in the background over the drawn-out high wail piercing his eardrums. Was that Dean? Were they hurting him?

It felt like there was a weight on his lungs, and he couldn’t quite get his mouth to work. “D’n?” he finally managed. “S’okay, I’m gonna get us out’a here, promise. S’okay.” 

Something in his leg twisted, the wail came back, there were two gunshots, and he finally passed out.

* * *

 

He woke up against the floor, again.  _ This is getting old _ . Somebody was rubbing his sternum with a knuckle harshly, and he groaned in response. 

“Sammy, come on, you gotta wake up, I can’t carry your heavy ass out of here myself, can I?”

Sam turned his head toward Dean’s voice, not wanting to open his eyes quite yet. “Dean?” His voice was weaker than he expected. 

“Thank god, yeah, Sammy, I’m right here.” His brother’s hands were holding his face still, for some reason. He tried to reach up to bat his hands away, but he felt weaker than he should.  _ Am I hurt _ ?

“Dean, what’s’goin on?” As soon as he started getting his legs under him to get up, fire burned through his right leg and hip. His vision whited out, and he could just barely feel himself arching up off the ground like he was being shocked.  _ “Fuck!” _

The pain lessened back to manageable levels, and he finally opened his eyes. Everything was blurry, but someone was leaning over his face, knees pinning his arms down, and somebody else was pinning his right leg to the ground. His ears were ringing again, and he couldn’t hear what the person above him was saying. 

He still didn’t know what was wrong with him, why he was hurting so much, or who was with him at the moment.  _ Fuck _ , Sam couldn’t even  _ breathe-- _

The person who had been pinning him-- _ Dean _ , his  _ brother _ , his mind finally supplied, how could he forget  _ that _ \--was suddenly propping his shoulders up on his lap and holding his head straight. He needed to see, needed to see how bad it was for himself,  _ god _ \--

He bolted up when his brother loosened the grip on his shoulders and face, just in time to see Cas pulling an iron poker out of the fire the witches were sitting around. He glanced at his right leg and immediately wished he hadn’t. The last time he had seen himself so completely torn up was--

He swallowed convulsively, nausea rising up quickly from the scene. His brother pulled him back down onto his lap, holding his head to the side and saying something unintelligible through the harsh noises echoing around him.  _ Is that me? _

“--Sam, come on, listen to me, Cas got the poison out of your system but that was all he could do, we gotta cauterize, I’m so sorry--”

Cas made it back and sat on his legs, immobilizing them. He really didn’t want to watch this. Dean moved his thumb to wipe tears away from under his eye--he didn’t know he’d been crying. He raised a shaky hand to Dean’s neck, he needed that anchor, the amulet he gave him--

It wasn’t there. 

_ It can’t be Dean _ . 

Just as he started to panic, the poker landed on his ripped femoral artery. 

Heaving in a loud breath, all his muscles began tensing and trembling.  _ Can’t get away, can’t get away, can’tgetaway _ \--

The smell of burning flesh burned his nose and eyes, and he no longer had any control. 

“ _ Ag, Sahe, Ag, Esiasch sahe hoxmarch, Obza tibibp, sahe ag!” _

The world went mercifully black.

* * *

 

He woke up with the Impala growling underneath him, laying on somebody (again), Cas’s trenchcoat on him like a blanket. 

“Go to sleep, Sammy,” his brother said from the driver’s seat. “We’re still a couple hours from home.”

Cas gave him a gentle smile and rubbed his cheekbone with a thumb, and Sam closed his eyes and let the familiar motions of the Impala soothe him back to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Non-literal translation of Enochian used: No, please, no, Brother please, I'm scared, I'm sorry my mate, please no!


End file.
